When A Good Man Goes To War
by iron-holmes
Summary: Kate Greene has been best friends with Major Jamie Stuart and Captain James Nicholls since she was a child. What happens when her best friends head out to war? How will she cope with the military imprisonment of a lover and the death of a friend? Jamie Stewart/OC
1. Chapter 1

**War Horse fic! Enjoy :)**

One of the saddest moments is one's life is when your loved ones leave you. Sometimes, they say they're going to come back and they will. Sometimes they say they're going to come back. But they don't. Other times, they just can't come back.

You wish they could but they're just gone. So you've got to move on with your life for their sake.

#####

"You must be joking!"

"I'm not"

"James, she's not joking"

"She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself"

"Will you two just calm down for a second!" I heard an annoyed huff as I jumped over a bush. I quickly switched out of my skirt and into my trousers. Must aristocratic societies create dress codes? I folded my skirt and smoothed out my blouse. All better now.

"If your mother saw you wearing trousers she would throw a fit" Jamie called. He'd been kindly informing me about how 'proper young ladies' shouldn't wear trousers. He's known me since we were children, he should know I'm not a proper young lady.

"Yes, that's why she won't see me wearing trousers" I pointed out as I climbed over the bush. Both James and Jamie had turned away, even if I had been hiding behind a bush while I changed. Sometimes, I think someone had hypnotized them to be complete gentlemen, even in the middle of a bloody forest with no one around for another mile.

"You can turn around now" I said as I stuffed my folded skirt into the saddle bag. I'm actually glad I managed to drag them both away from their military duties for a nice day riding out. With Jamie being a major in the British cavalry and James being a captain in the same cavalry, they were always training the new troops. This war was tearing apart my friend ship with my two best friends. They were out, training troops for the upcoming war while I stayed home with the other women, cooking and taking care of children. That's not all women are good for! It's 1913, everything has advanced, so why can't women vote, or wear trousers, or help fight the advancing Germans?

"A proper young lady cannot wear trousers! How many times have I already said that?" Jamie exclaimed.

"If I can't wear trousers, you shouldn't be allowed to grow a moustache" I pointed out.

"What do you have against my moustache?" Jamie asked.

"Nothing" James and I said in unison. Jamie glared at us before fixing the tie in his uniform. Both of them were required to wear their official uniforms even when they weren't back at camp.

"Right then, shall we go?" James asked as he pulled himself into the saddle of his chestnut Thoroughbred.

"One day, I might lose my sanity because of the two of you" Jamie said before he galloped away on his dark brown Quarter Horse.

"Jamie, darling, you've already lost it because of us!" I called as my black Arabian and I galloped past him. I heard shouts of protests but it was muffled by the wind and the sound of leaves and twigs as the Arabian ran past them. I glanced over my shoulder at my two friends, who were racing after me. I urged the horse to go faster. Everything we passed was a blur of greens and browns. I saw a clearing far ahead but there was a hedge separating it from the forest grounds. I held on tightly to the reins as the Arabian neared the hedge. He galloped a bit faster before leaping over the hedge. It felt like we were soaring for a moment. Then his boots hit the grass and we trotted away from the hedge as a fury of chestnut and dark brown burst through the forest. I couldn't help but smile as I glanced at my friends. They've known each other for god knows how long. People assume they're brothers because of their closeness and the fact that they look a lot alike. Both very, very tall with golden blond hair, pale skin and piercing blue eyes. The only difference is that Jamie has extremely sharp and visibly cheekbones (as well as a moustache) while James has a defined jaw line and no moustache. I've also noticed that Jamie's eyes change color. They aren't as blue as James' eyes but they vary from turquoise to icy blue to green. The two of them are like brothers, maybe not in blood but definitely in bond.

"I won" Jamie stated proudly, the Quarter breathing heavily and trotting around James.

"Won what?" I asked curiously, jumping off the Arabian.

"I said I would give him 10 guineas if he could beat me in a race" James explained, sliding out of his saddle.

"That was foolish of you. You know he always wins at races. Unless it's against me" I pointed out, holding the bridle so the horse didn't wander off.

"Is that a challenge?" Jamie asked. I glanced around the clearing. Well I assumed it was a clearing. It was actually a grassy field overlooking the river.

"Most likely" I said, setting my foot in the stirrup and pulling myself back into the saddle.

"I'll draw the light shall I?" James said sarcastically as he picked up a stick and set it on the ground in front of the 2 horses. The Arabian pawed at the ground restlessly.

"Of all the women I know who ride horses, you are the only one who prefers a black Arabian to a white pony" Jamie stated.

"Is that a compliment?" I asked playfully, tucking an auburn curl behind my ear.

"Certainly" He said, offering me a kind smile. I always missed the way Jamie smiled. With the war and the military and whatnot, he almost never smiles and I never get to see those dimples.

"Ready?" James asked. We both nodded.

"Finish line is right there" He said, pointing to the edge of the field.

"Basically, if we don't pull the reins, we'll go flying over the cliff?" I asked.

"Yes, precisely" He said as he ran off to the side before throwing his officer's hat as the go signal. Like the horse had a mind of it's own, it broke into an even faster run then in the forest. I could hear the pounding of hooves on the ground as Jamie's Quarter picked up speed. We were nearing the edge before the Arabian burst into a full sprint, leaving Jamie in the dust. I pulled the reins exactly 10 seconds before we reached the edge. Even then, a few pebbles fell off the cliff and into the murky waters.

"I told you I always win against you" I said as Jamie trotted up next to me.

"Or maybe you just let me win" I suggested.

"Certainly not" He said. I glanced at James who was laughing at the far end of the field.

"Maybe next time you'll win" I said as I jumped out of the saddle, taking the reins and leading the black horse back towards James and the Thoroughbred.

"I don't think there is going to be a next time" Jamie said quietly, walking by me, reins in hand.

"What are you on about?" I asked.

"James and I are leading a cavalry charge in September of the next year" Jamie explained.

"What? But you could get hurt! Or-or worse!" I exclaimed.

"We knew that when we signed into the military" Jamie said. I looked at him with pleading eyes. He couldn't do this. I couldn't lose either of them. I don't know what I'd do if they died in that dreaded war.

"Jamie" I tried again. He was averted my pleading gaze. I stopped walking and took his arm, making him face me.

"We'll be fine. After all this is James and I. What could possibly happen to us?" Jamie said with a kind smile.

"You better be careful out there. Or so God help me because I will haunt you to your grave" I warned him. Jamie chuckled lightly.

"Jamie Stewart, mark my words because they shall haunt you till your dying day!" I exclaimed. This statement caused the major to laugh even harder.

"Hurry up would you! We've got to get back to the camp by tonight!" James called. I let go of Jamie's arm and walked ahead, the black Arabian nudging my shoulder every so often until we reached James.

"Shall we head home?" Jamie asked.

"Come on then" I said, pulling myself into the saddle. The Arabian reared and galloped back into the woods, Jamie and James following close behind.

_**Major Jamie Stewart - Benedict Cumberbatch**_

_**Captain James Nicholls - Tom Hiddleston **_

_**Kate Greene - Lily Collins**_

_**Charles Baker - Orlando Bloom**_


	2. Chapter 2

**These chapters that take place during the war are sort of on fast forward so it won't be day by day. It'll probably by months, maybe even years. This chapter contains many feels that I am not responsible for. Just trying to write my own version of the talented Michael Morpugo and Steven Spielberg's: War Horse. Enjoy :)**

"We're going to Devon tomorrow to gather new soldiers and horses. Then we go to the training camp. After that, well, after that we ride into battle" James explained.

"I can't believe it's been a year since Jamie told me you two are leaving. A whole year has past and today is the last day I'll see you for a long time" I admitted.

"We'll be back soon. Don't worry" James said, offering me a kind smile.

I spent all day with James because Jamie has been busy with rallying troops in London, but he promised he would come tonight. He promise. If I know Jamie Stewart, it's that he never breaks his promises.

"We're let off every 6 weeks for a day or two so other troops can fight while we rest, either in the hospital, or in peace" James said.

"Please take care of yourself. And Jamie" I pleaded.

"I will" James assured, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders.

We'd been sitting on the white picket face surrounding the horse pen for about 2 hours now. About a hundred yards away was my parents' mansion with it's trimmed hedges, golden gates and marble columns. That's the perks of being brought up by a rich family, they don't care how long your out, as long as you don't discredit their names in society. James and Jamie both know this. That's how we met actually. All are parents are rich aristocrat who wanted their children to interact with other children of the same working class.

"I'm going to miss you and your sarcastic comments" James admitted.

"Come back alive and you'll be hearing more of those comments" I said, putting on a brave face and trying to keep the tears at bay. They were really leaving and I might never see them again.

"I promise"

"I'm holding you to that"

"I know"

With a light chuckle, he hugged me tighter as few tears trickled down my cheeks. I don't know what I'd do if this war takes my boys away from me.

"I-I've got to go. We leave at the crack of dawn" James admitted. I watched with sad eyes as he jumped off the fence and put his officer's hat on.

"Goodbye Kate" He said.

"Goodbye James" I managed, holding back all the tears. He gave me a warm smile before turning and walking down the paved road, back to London.

#####

James had gone back to his temporary flat in London to pack for tomorrow while I still sat on the white picket fence, watching my black gelding run around the pen. I couldn't bring myself to leave. So many thoughts were going through my mind. I wasn't even thinking about the fact that my parents had arranged a courting of me and some aristocrat who refused to fight for his country. Even James and Jamie had gone to war! I was more immersed in my worries for my best friends. What if I lost Jamie? We'd always had some kind of connection. I knew it. I knew that he knew it. James on the other hand, was like the brother I've never had, being an only child, but my feelings for Jamie were... different.

Speaking of the Major, here he was, walking down the paved road from the city. His brow was furrowed so he must have been thinking. I watched, almost mesmerized, by the way the setting sun gave his pale skin a warm glow. I couldn't bring myself to believe he or even James might not come back.

Controlling the tears, I jumped off the picket fence. I began walking towards Jamie. He looked up and smiled as soon as he saw me. Now I couldn't control it. A few tears trickled down my cheeks as I walked a bit faster towards him. God what would I do without either of them? I broke into a small run. Jamie took off his officer's hat and caught me in his arms, embracing me closely. I wrapped my arms around his torso. .

"Please don't go" I begged, trying my best to keep more tears from spilling.

"Kate, you know I must. It's my duty" He said.

"Just be careful. Take of James. Come back to me alive" I whispered.

"Your making our departure much harder then it should be" Jamie muttered.

"Is that your way of saying you'll miss me?" I asked playfully, though my unshed tears.

"Of course" He replied, managing a smile. I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek, slipping out of his embrace.

"I-uh-I-I must be off. I came to bid you farewell and er..." He stuttered, straightening his uniform ad putting his hat on. He lowered the front so it hid the rosiness adorning his cheeks.

"I promise I'll come back for you" He whispered, leaning down and kissing me. I was dumbfounded by the action but found myself deepening the kiss. He pulled away, turned on his heel and walked down the road without looking back. I stared after his disappearing form with tears streaming down my cheeks. He was a few yards away before I saw his tense shoulders relax. Even this far. I could see his cheeks were glistening with tears as he looked back at me. Never would I had thought Jamie Stewart would be crying. Smoothing out his uniform, he turned away once again, and continued marching down the road.

I didn't imagine this would be the last I saw of my darling Jamie Stewart for a long, long time.

_Demons run when a good man goes to war  
Night will fall and drown in sun  
When a good man goes to war  
Friendship dies and true love lies  
Night will fall and the dark will rise  
When a good man goes to war  
Demons run but count the cost  
The battles won but the child is lost_

#####

"Oh, Kate! Mr. Baker sent a telegram. He wishes to see you tomorrow" Mother told me as I walked into the house. I groaned internally. My two best friends have gone to war and now I must go and see Charles Baker, the man my parents wish me to marry. It's not that he isn't kind or good looking, he's just so rude, arrogant and quite spoiled.

"Thank you mother" I said as I walked past the leather sofa where my mother was sitting, drinking tea from expensiveness china. I glanced at the telegram laying on the table by a Chrystal lamp behind the couch. Mother and Father always wanted _everything_ to be luxurious. That's why they had inherited the mansion. The walls were marble and the floors were expensive tiles. Not to mention the double staircase that led upstairs with the gold banister. Everything in the house was white, gold and royal blue: the colors of the family crest. I walked up the left staircase as my bedroom was on the left side of the house. I passed the coffee tables at the end of the stairs adorned with flower vases as I walked towards my room. It was nighttime so the maids must be in the kitchen. I retreated to my bedroom and relaxed as soon as the door closed behind me. My walls were white, adorned with gold while the arched ceilings had royal blue drapes. My bedroom was quite spacious. I walked to my dark wooded desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. I found a pen, dipped it in ink and began to write. Tomorrow I would send a letter to James and Jamie.

#####

I was watching from my bedroom window the post man's cart. The horse was pulling him towards our house. Quite slowly for my taste. I've only received 2 letters, one about how horrid the camp is, the other about how horrid war is. James has been sending me drawings of Joey, the thoroughbred he shall be riding into battle. He's always been an amazing artist. In his letter, he said Jamie is on edge, quite nervous about their charge.

Finally, the post man dropped the letters in front of our wide, wooden front doors. I ran out of my bedroom, grabbing my dressing gown, running down the stair case in the most unlady like way. I opened the door and quickly grabbed the letters. There were 4, 2 for me and 2 for my parents. I dropped the letters for my parents on the coffee table and ran back to my room. I closed the door and sat down on the edge of my bed. Opening the envelope with Jamie's handwriting, I braved myself for what I would read.

_My darling Kate, _

___I do not know how to start this letter. Nor do I know if I shall be returning from this dreadful war. Tomorrow, we are going to France to invade a German encampment. James and I both know that the Germans will have revolvers and such as they are masters of , he doesn't want to discourage his troops. I want to die as heroes if they must die at all. If not, then let them live in glory. But we are hoping for the best. I will write a letter tomorrow. But I will not be able to post it so I shall leave it in my pocket. If I die in battle, they will collect the letter and send it to you. I am praying to God or whoever is in the heavens that I may return and read it to you myself. _

___ Love, _

___ Jamie _

__I fold the letter and realized that tears have started streaming down my cheeks. They are going into battle tomorrow! They might not come back. I pull myself together but a few tears trickle down my cheeks as I open James' letter.

_Dear Kate, _

_We had a practice charge today. I finally won against a race with Jamie! Joey is quite a fine horse. I regret bringing him to the war but if I have to charge into battle tomorrow, I certainly am glad it will be on his strong back. I wanted to tell you, I honestly believe Jamie loves you because I can hear the scratching of pen and paper from his office every night. I even found 5 pages of love letters he planned on sending to you. 5 pages! I even managed to convince him to shave off that horrid moustache when we come back from the war. I hope too see you soon. And do not worry for all will be well. _

_From, _

_ James_

I found myself smiling through the tears as I read his letter. James was always so cheerful and optimistic. My smile widened as soon as I read '_when we come back from the war_'. I always admired James for all the hope he had. I stood up from my bed, walking over to my desk where I kept their letters and James' drawings. I found myself re reading all their letters, I barely heard the knock on my door. My eyes welled up with tears as I read Jamie's letter over and over. He began signing his letters with '_Love, Jamie_' since he arrived at the camp.

"Miss"

I turned around and found one of the maids standing by my door. It was Sylvia. She was the only maid whom I knew since I was little. I remember she tucked me into bed when my mother wouldn't and read me bedtime stories when my father wouldn't.

"May I ask what's wrong?" She asked

"Yes of course, you may ask me anything you want" I told her, drying my eyes with my satin dressing gown. She walking into my room and approached.

"Are those letters?" Sylvia asked, glancing at the stack of beige papers with dark ink.

"Yes they are" I replied.

"From whom?" She asked.

"James and Jamie" I said.

"They're in the war, aren't they? A Captain and a Major in the cavalry?" She asked.

"Yes, they're going to the front tomorrow. Jamie wrote that he believes they won't be coming back from the war because he knows the Germans have an advantage" I explained.

"Shouldn't he tell his superiors?" Sylvia asked.

"No, he doesn't want to discourage his troops. He wants them to die as heroes if they must. If not, then let them live in glory" I said, quoting Jamie from his letter.

"What of James?" She asked.

"He was just being optimistic, writing about the witty and good things that have come out of this war. There are not many so his letters are short" I said.

"May I see?" She asked.

"Of course" I replied, handing her the stack of letters. I walk over to the armchair by the fire and snuggle under the fur blanket as I watch her eyes skim over the words. After many minutes, she looks up at me with red eyes.

"Oh my darling, you mustn't lose hope. They will return" She said.

_The next day, France, German camp..._

Jamie Stewart sat in the ambulance cart with the other captured British cavalry soldiers. Lt. Charlie Waverly sat across him, a bloodied bandage wrapped over his forehead. Jamie had broken an arm when he tried to fight back against the Germans. Now he sat in the ambulance, not being able to believe he fact that his best friend had died because he had seen Joey run through the forest with an empty saddle. He glanced at the remainder of his troops. There were about a dozen men who have survived, all injured badly. Their horses have been taken but the rest of the men and horses have been killed. He looked back to the field, hoping to see his best friend, alive and well, walking towards him. Instead he saw his best friend, blood spreading throughout his uniform, being set next to the other dead men.

Jamie turned away, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. He was alive but he doesn't know how he would get home. He wasn't even sure if the Germans would let them go. They would probably keep them prisoners until they died of sickness or worst. After a few hours, the cart stopped. He glanced outside and found they weren't in a forest anymore. They were in the middle of a dusty road leading to an endless amount of grey tents for the soldiers. He got out with the rest of the men, holding the letter tightly in his hand. As he walked where the Germans pushed him too, he could feel the cool chain against his skin. It was still there. The St-Anthony pendant Kate had sent him the other day. He never took off the slim, gold chain because he knew it was hers. Her guardian angel, St-Anthony, was now guarding him.

They were led towards a bigger tent then the others, most likely housing the officials. He and Charlie were pushed into the tent first, being the only surviving officials. The German officers talked in whispers as they observed the disheveled appearances of their prisoners. One of the officers said something to the man that had brought them here. The man grunted a response in German and began leading Jamie and Charlie away from the other British men. Then he realized this was his only chance to get the letter sent to Kate. He broke free of the man's grasp and ran back to the tent, ignoring the shouts of protest. He took the letter from his pocket and handed it to the officer.

"Please send this" Jamie begged. He wasn't sure if the man understood him and yet, he took the letter. Jamie nodded a thank you before he was taken away from the tent and punched in the gut for disobedience.

"What was that about?" Charlie whispered as they were pushed to a tent near the captured horses. He found both Joey and Topthorn, his own horse, there. He was relieved they had both survived.

"I wrote a letter to someone special" Jamie explained. Both men were pushed into the mud as the German soldier walked away laughing. Jamie glanced at the barbed wired fence around the camp. He knew they'd get shot the moment they touched that fence. But he needed to get back to Kate. He promised. And Jamie Stewart always kept his promises.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!**

I refused to go see Charles Baker the other days. I refuse to see him today as well. Until I have news of either Jamie or James, I shall court no one. Sylvia knows about what's going on between Jamie and I. She told no one of the love letters he had sent me from his time at the camp. But yesterday, I got no letters. None today. Not from Jamie. Not from James. Did something happen to them? Are they not allowed to write anymore? The post usually arrives in the morning but it's evening now. So why haven't their letters come?

Unfortunately, my day got worse when my mother had invited Charles for dinner. If I tell her about Jamie and I... would she stop being so persistent about Charles? I know that "_a woman as young and beautiful as you should at least be courting someone! Tis not lady like to keep men begging for your attention. Amusing but very unlady like!_" as mother puts it. Alright, there are a lot of men who demand my hand but I shall not be seeing any swine who wants me for a mistress while his wife is tending to his children! Now I sat on the bench under the shade of the tree next to the marble mansion and Charles sat next to me, watching the horse trot around it's pen with disgust.

"How have you fared since I last saw you?" Charles asked, turning to me. I didn't look at him as I spoke. Instead I watched the setting sun for any sign of the post man.

"Fine" I said. Charles nodded and turned back to watching the horse as it galloped around. A kitchen bell was heard through the open window above us.

"I believe tis dinner time" Charles said, standing up and fixing the tie on his suit. He offered me a hand which I forced myself to take. Smoothing out my expensive dress, Charles led me back into the house for the dreaded dinner.

######

There was a somewhat awkward silence in the room except for the clinking of silverware against the dinner plates. The least Charles could do to prove himself as _not_ robotic as he seems to be is engage in some kind of conversation. Yet he keeps quiet, eating the meal the maids had prepared. One good thing about rich parents is that in times of war, everything is always luxurious. We never have anything missing. This sickens me as I walk down the streets of London everyday, watching the poor beggars on the street. I _always_ toss them a guinea or two and they give me a toothless smile. I was broken out of my thoughts of the poor and starving as there was a knock on the front door. I was about to stand up but my mother beat me to it, folding her napkin and walking out of the dining room. I heard the clicking of her heels against the tiles as she walked to the foyer. Father, Charles and I had stopped eating. We were waiting for her to come back to the dining room to question her on who was at the door. Then I heard the closing of the front door and the clicking of heels as she walked back into the dining room. Mother walking to me, handed me an envelope and two yellow cards. Telegrams. Yellow... that means they're from the War Office in London.

"It's addressed to you" She said.

"Excuse me" I said as I grabbed the envelope and telegrams, walking out of the dining room. As soon as I was in the hallway, I hitched up my dress and ran upstairs. Why would I get a telegram from the War Office? Why would I get 2? The War Office only sends telegrams to families of the soldiers who... died. I tore into my bedroom and shut the door. Ripping open the envelope, I smoothed out the letter and read it:

_My darling Kate,_

_If you have gotten this letter, that means it has been collected from my pocket and I must have either died or been captured. Hopefully it's the latter. I wrote this before we left the camp, knowing I wouldn't come back. But I want you to know that no matter what, I love you with all my heart. You mustn't forget that! I promised I would come back to you. You know I always keep my promises. And I will come back. One day, you'll see James and I, walking down the road to your house like we did when we were children, arms our shoulders and smiling with the sun shining around us. I promise. Pray to St-Anthony that I am well enough to come back to you, darling, because he has sent me a guardian angel. A guardian angel in the form of a Kate Green, whom I love and cherish with all my heart. You shall be in my thoughts and prayers as I ride by James, who I promise to bring back with me, alive and well._

_With my eternal love,_

_Jamie_

Why did this letter arrive a day later? Is it because they were collecting all the letters from the dead men and it took too long to send them? God why had I even thought of that? No, Jamie is alive. He is well and he is coming back. My St-Anthony pendant is guarding him. James is alive. He is well and he is coming back. With these thoughts, I sank to the carpeted floor and began crying. Sobs racked my body as I read and re-read his letter. "A_ guardian angel in the form of a Kate Greene, whom I love and cherish with all my_ heart". He... loves me? Now tears of joy were mixing themselves with tears of grief. Those telegrams will confirm my doubts on Jamie's health. But... why is there two telegrams from the War Office? Reaching out to the yellow cards I dropped to the floor when I had begun crying (I haven't stopped), I turned the first card over and my heart stopped entirely before shattering. There, in black, bold letters was written the fate of a man. How cruel is that?

_**Capt. James Nicholls: Killed in action.**_

_**September 18th 1914**_

Heart shattering sobs escaped me as I read the firs telegram. _Killed in action_. Those words seemed imprinted into my eyelids as I closed my eyes. I could still see them. James died. Yesterday. That's why he didn't write to me. That's why he's never going to write to me again. Because he's... he's... _dead_! My best friend is dead.

My eyes welled up with tears as more continued to stream down my cheeks. I picked up the second telegram, my broken heart racing uncontrollably. God, please don't let Jamie be dead. If his letter arrived today, he must be well! But he would have said that James' had died. Maybe he didn't know? Of course he knows, he's a major!

_**Maj. Jamie Stewart: Missing in action.**_

_**September 18th 1914**_

Missing? How could James have died but Jamie is missing? Does missing mean they can't find his body? They can't find _him_? Has he been so badly wounded they can't identify him? Or has he been captured by the Germans? All these thoughts were racing through my head as well as the grief pounded all the hope into the ground. James is dead. Jamie is missing. How is my family eating dinner calmly in the luxurious dining room a floor below me and I'm grieving for best friend and lover! Gathering up my courage and pushing away my manners, I wiped my tears, fixed my hair and walked out of my room, clutching the telegrams. I walked down the stairs and into the dining room where mother, father and Charles were talking in whispers.

"Oh what's wrong darling?" Father asked.

"James was killed in action yesterday" I stated calmly. Mother had tears trickling down her cheeks and father looked down, avoiding eye contact.

"What of Jamie?" Mother asked.

"Missing in action" I said, my voice breaking and tears trickling down my cheeks.

"They were leading a cavalry charge into a German camp. They died and so did every other man and horse in their squadron because of the Germans and their machine guns" I exclaimed.

"Sweet heart, Jamie might still be alive! He is only missing" Mother assured me.

"He had doubt of anyone's survival in his letter" I said before running out of the room. I locked the door to my bedroom and threw myself onto my bed, clutching their letters and crying uncontrollably.

James is dead.

Jamie is missing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Right, so from this chapter, just imagine Benedict Cumberbatch's character from 12 Year a Slave with blond hair when you picture Jamie. Hope you guys like this! (I don't speak German so correct me for any mistakes :D)**

Jamie had never stopped writing letters to Kate. He would often stay up late into the night, writing about anything while Charlie slept. But he couldn't send these letters to her. The Germans wouldn't allow it. One day, the officers had enough of Jamie's papers, sometimes flying around the camp when the wind was too strong. They gave him a diary so he can write in it instead. And he did write in. He has never been one for writing but found himself composing poems or love letters for Kate whenever the Germans didn't have him and Charlie going through the work they enforced them to do. He even tried drawing an image of James. It wasn't as well done as James' drawings but Jamie believed it was alright. Jamie had even kept to the promise he had agreed to. If he were to come back from the war, he would shave off his moustache, like James had said. And he did. He was clean shaven now, for James' sake. Unfortunately, Jamie's usually neat, military cropped hair had gotten longer over the time he'd been at the camp. He had long, curly blond locks now.

Every once in a while, Jamie would be let off his work (he thought of it as slavery), he would get asked information about the battle strategies the British had come up with. Of course, he would remain quiet in the uncomfortable chair they had chained him to. Then they'd try to beat the information out of him. Punches and slaps could not break a man, Jamie kept reminding himself. So he became indifferent to the bruising on his face, his thin body, everywhere.

Charles would often inquire how Jamie was doing, but knowing the answer was written on his face or in the journal he was given. Jamie had never stopped scribbling in that journal. After waking up and before going to sleep, he wrote about everything that happened to him, to Charles. Jamie hoped with all his heart that someone would let him send this to Kate. Oh how he missed her. He wrote poems about her, stories about her, letters for her. He'd never written so much in his life. Then again, he'd never been so in love with anyone in his life.

Sometimes, he found himself laying on the hard ground in the tent, fiddling with the St-Anthony pendant Kate had given him almost a year ago. He still remembered that night where he had kissed her. She had blushed and smiled at him before a few tears escaped her beautiful green eyes. Jamie always wondered how she fared now. Her parents must have had her marry some young, rich chap.

He didn't care. He still wrote letters. He would come back to her. And he would show her those letters. Jamie imagined she might even laugh when she sees him without his moustache, clean shaved, his blond locks longer and wild instead of the neat and waviness they usually possessed. Oh how he missed her laugh. How he missed her.

~ A year later ~

It's amazing how someone can grow so thin after more than a year of nearly no nurrishment. It's even more amazing that Jamie wasn't dead. Out of the dozen or less British soldiers that we're captured in September of 1914, only 2 we're left alive until December 1915. Those 2 soldiers being Charles and Jamie, for they we're the only officials of the captured group.

Everyday, Jamie awaited death. He was beaten, he gave his 'food' (or slice of stale bread) to Charles so he wouldn't starve, Jamie observed how his officer's coat was a few sizes larger than when it had been given to him. Instead of seeing his toned chest or his prominent cheekbones, he saw his bones through his skin and his cheeks had hollowed.

To explain what had happened to Jamie would be torture, because that is what the Germans did to him. When he wasn't being beaten, he was given labour-like work on the German camp and when he wasn't busy being a slave for the enemy soldiers, he was busy writing about what was going on and planning on how to deliver the journal to England.

Jamie was walking down a dusty road, holding on to the ropes around 2 chestnut horses he was ordered to lead towards the German general's tent. He was beaten rather harshly the other day so he walked slowly, trying to move his aching body as little as possible. He trudged past 2 German officers. One of them regarded him as if he was some sort of prey he was chasing while the other watched him with pity. He'd never seen one of the Germans show him pity. This was definitely something new. Jamie would have passed by them silently, but it seems the entertainment at the camp was rather dull, so one of the officers decided to entertain himself by placing his foot in front of Jamie and watching him tumble into the dirt. The horses reared from the pull of ropes as Jamie fell, his old and tattered hat skidding off his golden locks and the leather bound journal falling form his coat pocket. Normally, he would have remained indifferent, but Jamie was tired of having suffered like this for more than a year. He just wanted to go home. Home, where Kate has probably gotten married to some rich gentleman by now.

So Jamie managed to pull himself up, dropping the ropes tied to the horses' bridles and clenched his fist till his knuckles turned white. Then he let out all his fury into one punch that would get him shot, but no matter, he would accept death for it would bring him peace. As the officer staggered back, Jamie was very conscious of the consequences he would be facing.

"ihn erschießen! um Gottes willen er gerade hat mich angegriffen, ihn erschießen (Shoot him! For God's sake, he just assaulted me, shoot him!)!" The officer yelled. Jamie didn't understand what he said for he didn't speak German, but he assumed he was being ordered to an execution.

"Beruhige dich, ich werde mich darum kümmern (Calm yourself, I will take care of it)" The other said in a soft tone. The man Jamie had punched nodded and stormed off, fury in his eyes. Jamie swore he could see steam fuming out of his ears.

"I believe you dropped this" The officer said, handing Jamie the journal and his dusty, tattered hat. Jamie looked at the officer, straight into his kind brown eyes, not understand where he could have learned English. The officer was a bit shorter than Jamie, with military cut sandy hair and pointed features.

"Thank you" Jamie muttered. He wasn't himself today, he didn't know what's come over him. He just wanted to go home and see his darling Kate again. He'd been repeating that thought for more than a year, what would change after he'd assaulted an official?

"What's your name?" The officer asked.

"Major Jamie Stewart" Jamie replied automatically.

"Would you mind telling me why a British major is working at a German camp?" The officer asked.

"I was captured with a few of my troops and brought here, last year" Jamie explained truthfully.

"How we're you captured?" The officer asked.

"Cavalry charge. More than 150 soldiers on horses charged to their death on my command into a German camp. They brought the survivors here" Jamie stated.

"What's that book?" He asked.

"That's private, sir" Jamie declared, his military experience kicking in, forcing him to be proper.

"Your life depends on it, Major" The officer said.

"And my name is Thomas" He added. Jamie gave him a curious look and begrudgingly handed over the leather book.

"Love letters?" Thomas asked, more to himself than Jamie.

"Your wife?" He asked.

"No" Jamie replied.

"Ah, a lover. That's we're the courage to hit an officer came from" Thomas guessed. Jamie couldn't help but smirk.

"We're you planning on sending this to her?" Thomas asked.

"Planning, yes. I don't think I'll be able to" Jamie explained.

"I believe I could arrange something" Thomas said quietly, with the same mischievous glint in his eyes Jamie always possessed.

"Thank you... Thomas" Jamie muttered. Thomas nodded and smiled.

"Fine horses you've got here" Thomas announced, patting one of the chestnut beasts. Jamie mind wandered to Kate, who loved horses. Especially her black Arabian beauty.

"Which do you prefer?" Thomas asked suddenly. Jamie was confused, but looked over the horses anyways.

"This one. It's got stronger legs and hasn't suffered much of the war" Jamie replied, nodded to the horses Thomas had patted on the muzzle.

"Can you ride without a saddle?" He asked.

"Of course, but why-" Jamie began, but Thomas cut him off.

"Take it and get out of here. Get back to England. Here's a few pounds for a transportation and food so you make it back" Thomas said in a hushed, hurried whisper, shoving a leather pouch into Jamie's hand.

"I'll mail this book to the address you've written in it. Now go, quickly" Thomas added, answering Jamie's question which he had not yet forced.

"What about-" He began.

"I'll make sure your soldiers are alright. Go!" Thomas exclaimed, pushing Jamie onto the horse' back and handing him the rope. With a last nod, Jamie urged the horse forward. With a rear, he was speeding towards the dark forest, his breath condensing into vapor in the cold air.


End file.
